


summer nights full of the things i still don't know

by chifon



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Allison Argent/Scott McCall - Freeform, Fluff and Angst, Hand Jobs, M/M, Making Out, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Post-Season/Series 02, Summer Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:00:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28245810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chifon/pseuds/chifon
Summary: At the end of his sophomore year, Scott finds himself with broken shards for hearts, phantom bruises from the past that haunts him, and enough school work to drown in. In comes the impossibility of Isaac Lahey and the mystifying hues of summer that he brings with him.
Relationships: Isaac Lahey/Scott McCall
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	summer nights full of the things i still don't know

**Author's Note:**

> i miss summer

Beginnings have always felt hazy to Scott. 

The time he got his first inhaler; the thing just suddenly appeared in his hand one day, marking him as a social outcast. The time he got the bite—when that flurry of darkness and pain crashed into him, only becoming aware of it all when he was out on the road. And god knows, when Stiles had come into his life with his mischievous grins and overabundant energy, pushing him into things that he didn’t want to do, but still ended up having fun doing them. 

So he can’t exactly recall when he started making out with Isaac, just that they are. 

One minute, they were sitting on the couch, watching some now long forgotten movie, and in the next, Scott’s straddling Isaac’s lap with his arms loosely wrapped around Isaac’s neck. He can feel a hand curl around his hip, keeping him steady, and another around the back of his neck, drawing him in, the fingers brushing gently against the short hairs. Isaac’s lips are surprisingly soft, but he hasn’t been thinking about Isaac’s lips lately—well, until now—so he can't exactly say ‘surprisingly’ because that includes expectations and he never expected this to happen. 

Why is it still happening? 

Then, Isaac’s tongue slips into his mouth and all the noise is drowned out and he is just here. It tastes like vanilla and chocolate, Isaac’s mouth, probably from the ice cream bars they were snacking on earlier to beat the heat—summer is a lot hotter than he remembers it to be. Scott dives further in, finding a taste of something else that seems familiar, but he can’t give a name to it. When he retreats, his mind attempting to clear for a second, Isaac chases after him. His teeth teasingly bites into Scott’s lip before his tongue slips in again while fully tugging at the strands of Scott’s hair and it hurts just enough to make it feel good and Scott’s trying to not rub himself off on Isaac’s thigh because he knows it’ll only take just the tiniest bit of friction for him to come in his jeans.

It’s only when the need for air becomes too much that they pull away from each other. They’re both panting, foreheads leaning against each other. There’s this heavy, sweet scent in the air that reminds him of ripe peaches and flowers and honey; Scott allows himself to close his eyes and breathe it all in, allowing it to be everything for a moment. It’s coming from Isaac—has to be—and he wonders what Isaac smells from him, how similar or different it is, and if Isaac’s as overwhelmed by it as he is. And he wonders if Isaac can hear that screeching sound of tires against the pavement and the door slamming shut and oh, shit. 

Scott’s eyes fly open and he can see Isaac’s shocked expression as Scott launches himself off of Isaac, rolling over onto the couch, attempting to put enough space between them so it looks like they’re just doing friend things and hanging out and not sticking their tongues down each other’s throats. He’s trying to will his erection down, trying not to smell the aphrodisiac scent still wafting through the living room, as the front door opens. It’s his mom, trudging inside in her nurse's scrubs; she smiles as her eyes meet his, but it's obviously weary from fatigue.

“Hi, boys,” she says; the last word has a hint of surprise in it as she looks over to Isaac. Scott has had Isaac over a few times now when his mom was at work. Not that he was hiding Isaac or anything, just that he usually comes over during the nights—excluding today—and his mom had been assigned to more night shifts recently—also, excluding today. Actually, Isaac used to stand outside of his house like a teenager—a big puppy dog of a teenager—loitering around a liquor store until Scott couldn’t take it anymore and let him inside. Told him he was free to come in anytime and he did.

“Hey, mom,” Scott replies, doing his best to find the words as their prior activities replay inside his head. “This is Isaac,” he gestures over and sees that Isaac’s lips are a shiny red and oh, god, Scott did that. “He, uh, goes to my school” Isaac gives a small wave, a little smile, and a “Hi, Mrs. McCall”, acting totally normal, as if they hadn’t been tongue fucking the shit out of each other just minutes before. Scott continues, “We’re watching a movie” 

His mom turns over to the television and asks incredulously, “Brokeback Mountain?”

He checks and sees two men on horses, herding some sheep along a mountain path; he’s pretty sure that the last time he looked at the screen, there was a teenager being bitten by a radioactive spider.

“Yeah, I like the uh,” Scott stammers. “the cowboys” 

She looks over the both of them before sighing out an “Okay, then. You boys have fun. I’m going to take a nap before dinner.” She’s walking to the stairs when she adds “It was nice meeting you, Isaac” 

“Nice meeting you too, Mrs. McCall” 

It’s quiet between them when his mom disappears upstairs. Scott’s looking down to the floor, unable to say anything because he doesn’t even know what to say. What do you say to the boy, to a friend, you’ve just made out with? That it was nice? That you aren’t gay? That you want to do it again? He doesn’t even know if any of those statements are the truth. 

“I better get going,” Isaac says, breaking the silence, and relief washes over Scott enough that he can finally look up. There’s a part of him, however, that doesn’t want Isaac to go, but he doesn’t know how to get him to stay, not with his hands being unable to move in the right direction or his mouth being unable to say the right words.

“Yeah, okay,” Scott replies. Isaac’s standing already, putting his leather jacket back on even though it's a hundred degrees and rising out there—well, eighty degrees plus the unfortunate werewolf attribute of running a little too hot. He follows Isaac to the door, lagging behind a bit to put some distance between them. As Isaac’s hand reaches for the door knob, Scott has this thought that maybe it wouldn’t open and Isaac would be stuck in here with him and he wouldn’t _leave_. 

The door swings open. Isaac steps out, turning around to face him, waiting for a second as if he’s giving Scott a chance to pull him back in. 

“See you later, then” Scott says, holding onto the knob. Isaac smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes and Scott takes a whiff of a crisp, damp smell like rain starting to fall. 

“Yeah,” Isaac says. “See you later” 

Then, he’s off, into the daylight, to who knows where because Scott shuts the door before he can really see the direction he’s heading to. Easier that way. 

Making his way back to the couch, he sits back down with a sigh, feeling the tension roll out of him a bit. The questions still linger, although; he’s not sure what to do with them or how to answer them, if he even should answer them because Isaac isn’t here right now. Since Isaac isn’t here, he doesn’t have to think about them, becoming a problem that can be tucked away and ignored for now. 

It’ll come back though. He knows that. 

Glancing over to the coffee table in front of him, Scott notices there's a ice cream bar wrapper on it, just sitting there on the far right side of the table—right in front of where Isaac was. He picks it up, taking out the wooden popsicle inside. The sweet, melted residue is still on it, sliding down the thing and before it reaches his hand, Scott licks it instinctively. When he gets to the top, he holds the tip between his lips. 

It tastes of vanilla and chocolate. 

— 

Ignoring is a lot harder than Scott had thought it would be because even though Isaac isn’t physically here, he still is. 

Whenever Scott sits on the couch, all he can think about is Isaac sitting there: smiling at him, chatting with him, kissing him. In fact, Isaac’s left pieces of himself all around his house—the kitchen counter where he’d prop himself up on the counter as Scott shoved a bunch of pizza bagels in the oven as a late night snack because cooking isn’t one of his strong suits; the dinner table where they had attempted to play goldfish only to realize how easy it is to cheat when you can hear the other person’s heartbeat; the bedroom floor where they’d played Mario Kart on the small ass TV, bumping into each other on purpose to get the other to mess up. All of it is a reminder that Isaac was there and he will always be there even when he’s not. 

Scott tries to dive into his summer school homework, staying mostly in his room with the music in his headphones turned up so high that his werewolf hearing wouldn’t be able to detect Isaac’s presence. 

Doesn’t matter anyway. Isaac hasn’t been by at all. Nobody really has.

He wishes somebody would. 

—

By the time Scott gets fed up with his homework—going over and beyond for his classes at this point—, Isaac comes back. Not approaching his house or anything, just standing there in the shadows like he used to do and Scott can’t take it anymore. 

That’s how he ends up at Stiles’ house one afternoon.

It’s a nice change of pace from being cooped up in his own house and Stiles is a good distraction, but, the later and later it gets, Scott finds himself staring out of the window as if Isaac is going to somehow be there. Not hard to trace his scent here after all. He wonders what Isaac feels about all this, what Isaac is thinking about. Maybe, he’s just as puzzled as he is and that’s at least somewhat comforting to think about. That he’s not alone in all this. 

“Scott” 

The hand on his shoulder snaps him back to the game in front where his character has just fallen off the ledge. He turns over to Stiles who’s looking at him with obvious concern written all over his face, doesn’t even have to smell it to know. 

“You okay, man, you seemed a little zoned out there,” Stiles says, smiling, almost playfully, trying to ease the tension in the air. 

“Yeah” Scott replies. “Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry”

“This about Allison?” Stiles asks.

And shit, Scott hasn’t even thought about Allison. God, _when_ was the last time he thought about her; how she left Beacon Hills, abandoned him and his heart without any word or sign. He can recall the seemingly never ending ache that he felt inside of him when she had disappeared. He can feel it now as his mind wanders through their past memories: them sneaking glances at each other in class, them walking down the halls with his fingers intertwined in hers, them tumbling off her bed in a fit of laughter. 

Scott misses that; he misses her and the butterflies he gets while being around her. He misses her so much and how the _hell_ did he stop missing her. 

“It’s gonna be okay,” Stiles says with a solid pat on the back. “There are plenty of more fish in the sea, you know” 

Scott nods and says, “We’re just on break. She’ll be back”

He wonders how much of that was the truth. 

— 

It’s late when he walks home. 

He was planning on staying over, but after the small talk about Allison, the mood kind of just died. Stiles had offered him a ride back, but Scott didn’t want to bother him any longer. Plus, he wanted to be on his own right now. 

The night is slightly chilly with the sun no longer there to provide its warmth. Stars are shining bright in the California sky, illuminating the path ahead of him. The light from the streetlamps and the moon brush over what the stars’ light isn’t able to touch. There are spots, although, that none of them are able to reach; it’s where the things that go bump in the night live in order to coexist with humanity. He’s been bordering that line, in between the light and dark, for a while now with the damage the kanima had done, with what Gerard made him do, with the bite; what’s been keeping him from going completely over is Allison. Her smiles, her touch, has kept him here: human. 

But now she’s gone and his stability is crumbling away.

“Scott,” A voice calls to him and Scott looks up—when had he looked down? And there’s Isaac, just standing there on the road in front of his house, mostly hidden away by the shadows, but his face is highlighted in the pale moonlight. 

Before he knows it, Scott’s shortening the distance between them; his hands twist themselves into the hoodie that Isaac is wearing and Isaac feels so tangible. Scott tugs him in closer and stands on the tips of his toes to meet Isaac’s lips. It’s light, not really a kiss, more like their lips grazing each other. Scott pulls away a bit to get a good look and Isaac’s eyes seem so blue like the ocean. He doesn’t have time to observe anything more because Isaac’s hands are around the back of his neck, dragging him back in again. 

They’re kissing for real this time. Just as desperately as they did on that couch, maybe more. There are fangs dipping into the corners of Scott’s mouth, making him hiss a little in pain. The noise of it all is muffled by Isaac’s tongue down his throat. He feels like he’s being swallowed whole. 

It takes all his strength to back up enough to breath out an “inside”. 

The familiar heavy, sweet scent hits him like a freight train then and Isaac’s eyes go dark and god, fuck. Next thing Scott knows, he’s fumbling with the house key, shaky with want. Isaac’s not even touching him, probably knows that they won’t be able to stop when he does, but his breath is so impossibly hot against the back of Scott’s neck that his hormones are going fucking insane. 

Isaac’s on him the minute they step inside, slamming him up against the door and kissing him until he’s a flushed, panting mess. Red—Scott notices when they break away for air—colors Isaac’s cheeks as well, the hue so stark against pale skin. Then, Isaac’s nibbling at his neck, starting to bite when Scott feels the wounds quickly heal over and he wishes they wouldn’t. He feels Isaac’s hand dip inside his pants and Scott can’t do anything, but buck up into the touch and gasps out an “Isaac Isaac Isaac”.

He comes like that with Isaac’s teeth deep within his neck and Isaac’s hand on his dick, stroking him through his orgasm, until he’s so oversensitive that all he can do is whimper and tremble in Isaac's steady arms, keeping him upright, keeping him here.

For the first time in a while, Scott feels stable.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments fuel my motivation, so pls leave some. i hope you guys enjoyed this fic!


End file.
